The Juvi Girl

authors note:

Hi guys! this is one of hundreds of books i attempted to write. this is the one that might have a future of being completed. i hope u guys enjoy the first chapters and please vote and comment id greatly appreciate it ;)

Chapter One – Unintentionally Suicidal

           I’ve learned over the years that what seem to be dramatic stories are in reality much less entertaining than the media portrays them. For instance, Fred was expelled from Raymond High for only bringing a petty pocket knife for woodshop. Sam was kicked off the football team for having a minor argument with the Coach. No, Raymond High Schoolers, I know what everyone has said about how Sam tackled the Coach to the ground. They just fought with words, and Sam wanted off the team anyway. He was only on it to get girls.  And my story. I was sent to juvi for being a typical crushed teenager locked in the grasp of strained parents who beat everyone down to not have to feel any pain of arguing.

        But I guess the twist of my story might be two things: I wasn’t a bad kid. And I’m a girl.

        Everyone in Raymond always though the girls were the angels, and the boys were the bad kids. That’s where the discrimination rose in school. So I always wondered if it was the same way in other schools. People I’d met told me they were surprised I was headed for juvi. Since I’m a girl. And I’m not a bad kid.

       I went to parties, drank a little. I wasn’t much of a drug kid. Never smoked some, never snorted some, ate some. My boyfriend did, though. He had tattoos running up his arms, his hair was neon sliding down his black eyeliner eyes. He wore the ripped arm-cut shirts with symbols of what-not climbing on top of the eyes who cringed at the sight of him. No one messed with him.

        Every week someone of our group holds the Friday night party. Stacey’s are always the most tedious to attend. She keeps the music soft and bluesy, her drink stash consists of iced tea and nothing more. Her food choices – healthy. And the time of the day of her parties were right after school until the sky had the faintest sign of red.

        My boyfriend said he’d bring on the wine coolers and booze. When the party was at full throttle, my drunk boyfriend began to forget he had a girlfriend. He messed around a little with other girls, to the point when I started for the door with tears erupting in my eyes. My body smashed into the boney and jelly hips of all the other kids smashing bottles and chugging down the alcohol.

       My boyfriend saw me leave, and caught my shoulder at the doorframe. He twirled me around roughly, like I was a piece of meat. He called me babe, slurred his voice, enveloping me in his alcoholic breath. Told me not to leave. There was a great room to chat‑ upstairs. He was snickering, and I knew what he was thinking in his pea brain that had just gone through a blender. I didn’t waste a second to run from the party. I felt all the second-hand smoke of pot left me shaky and slow. I saw a light across the street, and without thinking I charged for it. I thought the crunches of feet sliding against grass were my own.

    Then there was a dark road on both sides, so I leapt across it to that small light. So close, my fingers reaching out. Then I heard a horn, a swerve, a scream, followed by a swirl of confusing noises banging against the back of my head. My drunk mind couldn’t make much of it. I twirled around and saw my boyfriend flat on his face in the middle of the road with glistening liquid gently being squeezed out of his drugged, disgusting body. My nose wrinkled, as everyone else’s did. Someone had called the cops from this hit and run. They hid the booze, pretended it was a casual get together. I don’t know the whole story. Because I ran, the second I saw his body. I ran home, still not understanding what happened.